Into the Night
by tabbyuknowit
Summary: He had heard somewhere, once, probably in a movie, that there was a difference between crying and weeping. He felt that difference, then. When you weep, you weep with your whole body, your whole soul. And he wept.
1. Chapter 1

**I really shouldn't be writing another when I already have another story out. Ah, well, I like this one.**

The last thing he remembered was a bright white light.

A bright white light, and pain.

Pain, racing through his head, his legs, his everything.

He didn't know what to make of it, what had happened. He couldn't remember a thing.

With some effort, he managed to pull his eyes open. For a moment, everything was black. Terrifyingly black, pitch black, the color of death. And he indeed thought that he was dead or dying, in those few horrible seconds before his vision cleared.

When his vision did clear, he thought that maybe this was a fate worse than death.

He was in a car. _His _car, to be exact. And all he could make out at first was the blood.

It was everywhere. Pouring off of himself, in cracks and crevices all over his once pretty car, and dripping in mounds off of-

_Ziva._

_ Oh, no, Ziva._

_ Not her. Anybody but her._

Horror washed through him so intensely that for a moment he didn't feel the pain.

She was pressed up against her seat belt, head lolling to the side. Dark red gore poured off of her, in so many places it hurt to look. Her beautiful brown hair was covered in it, and what little he could see of her face was covered in glass.

He could feel the glass embedded in his own face, looking at hers, and it made him sick. He retched violently against the now restraining seat belt, coughing and sputtering, reaching desperately for his buckle the whole time.

When he finally found it, he pressed it without thinking, and he fell with a moan on top of the now deflated airbag, suppressing a cry of pain. He hadn't realized, until that moment, that they were at an angle.

He could vaguely recall the signs of shock setting in over his whole body, but that didn't matter to him. All that mattered was her.

She was unconscious. _Dead or unconscious, _a pessimistic voice in the back of his head whispered, giving voice to what he had before not aloud himself to think.

He panicked then. She could be dead. What would he do if she was dead? Well, die, certainly.

He made his way over to her as quickly as he could, which wasn't fast at all, and reached two fingers up to her neck to try to find a pulse.

He didn't find much, and what he could make out was faint and weak, slowing down. Her blood circulation slowing to a near stop, his heart rate soaring, his life slowly ending with hers.

And there was nothing he could do.

He had heard somewhere, once, probably in a movie, that there was a difference between crying and weeping. He felt that difference, then. When you weep, you weep with your whole body, your whole soul.

And he wept.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony wept into her hair for as long as his body was able. Which wasn't long. Even though he was better off than Ziva, he was in very bad shape.

Slowly, his body shut down. He felt it and he didn't care. What was the point, anyway, without her?

He closed his eyes to the sound of sirens.

He could occasionally hear something, underneath the heavy sheet of darkness. Sirens, at first, the yells of paramedics trying to save their lives, and once, a slow jagged heart beat. Not much more.

Eventually, unconsciousness overtook him completely, and he fell into it's embrace.

He woke slowly, and unwillingly, but he woke all the same.

It was kinda cold, he thought, and lumpy. Very uncomfortable. There was a strange beeping coming from the corner, and all at once, he remembered.

He sat up in his bed gasping, quickly, too fast. His heart was racing on the monitor, he could hear it, and he had sat up too fast, way too fast, and his head was spinning and someone was pinning him down...

This must be his own personal piece of hell.

They had sedated him a little too heavily, but under the circumstances, they thought he could use a couple more days of unconsciousness.

He was groggier this time around, and stiff. He had laid in one position for a pretty long time, he could feel that. But that wasn't the only thing he felt.

Pain radiated throughout his whole body, everywhere. They hadn't given him nearly enough painkillers for his taste.

He opened his eyes slowly, painstakingly, blinking against the fluorescent lights.

"Tony? Oh my gosh, Tony?!"

Abby's panicked voice managed to reach him, but there was only one thing that mattered.

"Zi-Ziva?" he rasped. "Where's...Zi?"

Her face pinched, and her eyes teared up.

No.

No. There was no way.

His pupils dilated, his body shook, his breathing turned to hyperventilation. The heart monitor beside him sped dramatically. But he didn't move. He couldn't.

He could faintly hear Abby's concerned, and then panicked voice, speaking to him, and then almost yelling. But it was like he had cotton in his ears.

"She's not dead, Tony!" she yelled.

It was the only thing that could reach him.

"Wha-what? What do you mean? Abs, where is Ziva?!" He was listening now, but the heart monitor was still racing, and he was shaking out of his skin.

She sighed, and silent tears poured down her face. "She's...not doing so well."

He looked at her desperately, telling her with his eyes that this wasn't enough. She didn't speak up, though.

"How long have we been in here? Where am I? _Where's Ziva?_"

The tears kept coming, but she spoke. "Norfolk. You're in Norfolk, Tony. You and Ziva were in an accident, three days ago."

"Abs! Is Ziva okay?" His eyes were wild things, spinning in pools of sorrow.

She shook her head. "No, not really. Goodness, I don't know. I just don't know."

She buried her face in her hands, and Tony almost lost it.

"Abby, go get Gibbs."

She nodded her head and walked away quickly, the weight of his desperation and her own sorrow tying her tongue.

Tony was about to go crazy when Gibbs walked in.

"Gibbs, Gibbs-" he was cut off when he moved too abruptly and a cry of pain slipped past his lips.

"Dinozzo, you gotta calm down." Gibbs walked to his bed and sat in the chair beside it, sighing and staring at Tony worriedly.

Tony could've sworn he'd aged 10 years in three days. He looked so worn.

"Ziva?" That was all he managed to get out. He knew that, unlike Abby, Gibbs would hold nothing back.

"You two were found, in your car, flipped most of the way off a hill. You ran into a tree head on, Tony. Ziva had most of the impact on her side. When we found you guys, she was very nearly dead and you were in shock."

"What's wrong with us? Is Ziva gonna be okay?"

"Well, you'll be fine, Dinozzo. A lot of glass, a pretty serious case of whiplash, a concussion. You broke a few of your ribs and your leg. You got real lucky. But, Ziva, she's...she's in pretty bad shape."

"How bad is it, Gibbs? Somebody's gotta tell me. I'm gonna go crazy."

He sighed, and for a moment, his poker face failed him. "Her heart stopped, twice. She had some pretty serious internal bleeding, broken bones all over her body, glass embedded everywhere. They won't know how bad things really are until she wakes up. But that's the problem; they don't know if she's going to."

"What do you mean?" his eyes were pleading.

"They've had her very heavily medicated for the past few days, but they've started to lay it off. If they keep her doped up, she won't wake up at all, but if they don't, they have no idea how much pain she'll be in. They said she could just slip off quietly, or she could wake up and not be the same. Either way, she's a broken record; you both are."

A broken record. Yes, they were broken. Tony in his heart, and Ziva in her body.

Why they spun despite the skips and the scratches was beyond him.

** Thanks to everyone who favorited or followed or reviewed. You are loved.**

** Also,**

** Disclaimer: I want to own NCIS, but I don't. Lucky you.**


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